So my chiropractor says, "have a few days off from the library?" Um, would I be back in Pittsburgh if I did?
I went to Kmart to buy underwear and cold medicine. So how did I also accrue expenses (and loot) on such items as bobby pins, hair elastics, a "scrapbook style" calendar, and a grey long sleeve shirt?
I'm alone in the house for I don't know how many days. I'll enjoy it while I can, doing laundry galore (yes, the new underwear and some towels before work) and leaving all the lights on, and my apartment unlocked. I didn't need Eva to leave (Ms. Second Floor) when she did--it sort of catatstrophied (if that's a word) the Max loss. We weren't "mates" in the significant sense, but sometimes she'd give me leftovers if she made chicken and I bought stuff from her daughter's school fundraisers.
My computer clock STILL is so messed up--right now it thinks it's 7:57 AM, and I can see plainly that it is five til noon. Why I didn't ask Santa for a Home Edition of XP (still available for upgrade, though not if you buy a new computer--that's so you don't send me comments) is beyond me. I guess I'm dressed for the day in what I wore to the chiropractor, jeans that are showing their age, and three shirts layered (pink, green, white).
I'm always hopeful when the phone rings and inevitably it's a telemarketer (the joys of caller ID).
Nick Hornby is still getting me through the heart shock. And I'm getting the idea from a lot of folks that six months is sort of a watershed. It either works or doesn't in that time frame. Besides, did I really think I was going to spend the rest of my tomorrows with a musician who makes less than I do a year (and I make nothing) and who isn't available to go to church even if he wanted to because he's working? I'm on the dark side of thirty (that is, I'm closer to 40 than 30) and he hasn't even hit 30 yet. Oh, but it would have been nice. He could make me laugh. And he didn't take my shit. He knew when I was lying. I never dated anyone before who took the time to see through me like that. I better stop writing this drivel, and go spend some time looking at this "scrapbook calendar" I got.
Oh, and Bhutto got killed. Crap. I always liked her, the little I knew of her.
It's gray here in Pittsburgh. Funny, I like Pittsburgh gray (which is what it's called). It fits my mood. I have 30 minutes before I have to leave for work (if I ate at home. But since there's no food in the larder, I have 15 minutes. I guess I'll drive thru somewhere on the way...)
7 hours ago